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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30142848">If You'll Have Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pen_and_Sword21/pseuds/Pen_and_Sword21'>Pen_and_Sword21</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Benedict is Bi, Benedict pining like he always is, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Smitten as a kitten, Smut, Widow Y/N and Benedict Bridgerton, angst angst angst, reference to abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:08:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30142848</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pen_and_Sword21/pseuds/Pen_and_Sword21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Y/N Portland, Duchess of Pembrokeshire is coming out of her year of mourning and has been persuaded by her friend Sir Henry Granville to attend one of his parties ...</p><p>I wonder who she'll bump into?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benedict Bridgerton &amp; Henry Granville, Benedict Bridgerton &amp; Reader, Benedict Bridgerton &amp; You, Benedict Bridgerton/Henry Granville, Benedict Bridgerton/Reader, Benedict Bridgerton/You, Henry Granville &amp; You, Reader/ Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Gentleman's Eye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’d heard a Bridgerton had started coming to Lord Granville’s parties but you’d never seen them there before. You yourself had only been to one once before. Henry had insisted you came as soon as your obligatory year of mourning had finished. Your old and lecherous husband had kept you practically locked away at your estate since he married only a few years previous. His greasy, sweaty palms had only touched you once or twice – trying to produce an heir, before breathing his last in some East End brothel and left you with an estate and your title.</p><p>You wandered the halls of the party for a while, wearing a half mask that just about concealed your identity. Still thinking about the Bridgerton in attendance you occupied your mind trying to decipher which one of them it could be. A brother, obviously – no unmarried lady of standing would risk being seen here, lest she completely leave behind her reputation. So, a brother. The eldest was a known rake, but an artist’s den didn’t seem like the type of establishment he’d frequent judging by the last conversation you’d had with him. The younger, Colin? If you recalled, perhaps the poor boy had been led here unawares. No, you had your money on the second son, he’d always had a wandering eye when it came to society and you were fairly sure of your guess as you thought on it more.</p><p>Slipping through the gatherings of small groups with your wine in hand, you could have missed him – being obscured by an easel, where it not for Sir Granville calling out for you and guiding you into the artists den. Henry talked away, explaining the theme of the evening and introducing you to some of the artists as you payed no mind at all. Caught in the captivating image of Benedict Bridgerton, illuminated by the glow of the fireplace, concentration clear on his furrowed brow and curved lip.</p><p>‘My dear, I have lost you’ Sir Henry jested, seeing you otherwise occupied.</p><p>‘No n… not at all, I am sorry’</p><p>‘Don’t be. Had he not had that effect on me I doubt he would have found his way here at all’ he chuckled, sipping at his glass. You both looked on. The concentration he gave to his work was undeniably attractive, but the open waistcoat and rolled sleeves made your corset feel tighter that it had before entering the room.</p><p>Feeling warm all of a sudden and completely out of your depth you made your excuses and returned to the hallway, feeling cooler already as you went in search of another glass of wine, and more platonic company.</p><p>Your husband had never spent much time with you, thank the lord, only the occasional weekend where he would lock himself away in his study with his steward. It left you a lot of time to read, and drink, and wander the painted halls alone, and untouched.</p><p>The evening wandered on and the few glasses of wine you had indulged in had taken slight effect, leaving you rosy and less guarded than before.</p><p>Benedict leant against a wall as he watched the hoards around him, leaning back to take a drag of his cigarette. Deciding on another glass of wine to fill the void left by his art he turned for wherever the source of the wine had been previously and almost toppled over a figure in his path.</p><p>Falling off your heel you were saved from toppling completely by two large hands coming around your waist to save you. As you pulled the fallen mask from your face you saw you were mere inches away from the face of Benedict Bridgerton, the man who had taken over your thoughts for the entire evening.</p><p>‘My lady’ Benedict exclaimed ‘I do apologise, I didn’t see you’</p><p>‘The fault is all mine’ you interrupted as he pulled you to your feet</p><p>‘No, I insist. I payed no mind to where I was going’ he carried on, taking your hand in his. You noted his other hand was still holding the small of your waist. ‘t least let me get you another glass’ he noted, looking down at the crystal shards strewn on the floor. He looked up at you through his lashes and you locked eyes, his crooked smile making your chest flutter as he led you gently through the halls to another glass of wine.</p><p>His conversation enthralled you – for the brother of Anthony Bridgerton you half expected him to know nothing of art and culture, however his knowledge and charm exceeded all expectations and you practically hung on his every word as you discussed the great renaissance painters. Your quiet corner of the house remained so as you talked between yourselves, only candlelight to accompany you as talked about your passions and wants in life.</p><p>The closer you became the more you enjoyed the warmth Benedict’s body emitted, his scent surrounded you and you wanted nothing more than to curl into it. Benedict was leaning in to you as well. Although he usually attended these parties in the hopes of forming more intimate relations with a woman for the evening, he found you utterly captivating. Your mask long gone he took the opportunity to drink in your features, mulling them over as only an artist could.</p><p>As you continued talking about an exhibition you had seen at Somerset House the year previous Benedict took it upon himself to brush a stray curl away from your eyes. The action took you both off guard and your closeness became apparent to both of you when his soft fingers trailed slowly down the side of your face.</p><p>‘You are unutterably beautiful; do you know that?’ Benedict whispered lowly.</p><p>‘Do you say that to everyone you bump into?’ you quipped back, wine slowing your speech</p><p>‘Never in my life’ he growled, towering over you as you pressed a palm to his chest.</p><p>‘I am a Lady’ you sighed – his closeness enough to set every hair on your body on edge. His breath bringing goose bumps out on your skin.</p><p>‘And I a Gentleman… My Lady’ Benedict whispered into your skin as he laid one solitary soft kiss to the bared skin of your shoulder. Your breath caught in your throat. Never in all your years had anyone treated you with such softness. As he pulled back, he brushed the tip of his nose gently across your jawline, separating you both mere inches as you had been before. ‘I have never met a woman like you before.’</p><p>‘You shouldn’t have met me tonight’ you smirked, knowing that this couldn’t go any further than you both wanted it too. It was already dangerous enough being here without your mask, but in a darkened corner with a gentleman, you could be ruined.</p><p>Benedict leaned back, wiping his hand over his face to sober himself up. Of course - he could ruin you like this, and however much he desired you he couldn’t be your downfall. You slipped out off of the bench and out of the soft grasp of his fingertips, fleeing through the open door; holding your mask to your face before your carriage swept you away into the night. Benedict watched through the frosted window as you were carried away into the night. Already missing your presence, he turned to see you had left your handkerchief on the table – Initials decorating the corner read #P. Pocketing the item as he stood to retire for the evening, he determined that he would find you again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Second Chance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Benedict pining for you ... you're welcome</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Benedict sat on the swing in his garden, swaying slowly as he sucked on his cigar. Since finding Elouise out here doing just that, months ago he had found it to be one of his favourite places. Pulling the handkerchief out of his waistcoat pocket he inspected it in his hand for the thousandth time in only a few weeks. A twig snapped behind him and he jolted to hide the kerchief.</p>
<p>‘Brother.’ Elouise smiled as she swung onto the seat beside him. ‘Spare one for me?’ she asked cheekily. He rolled his eyes and handed her one out of his case, lighting it for her as she leant over to take it. ‘So…’ She said, puffing on the cigar to ignite it properly. ‘What’s in your pocket?’ she said matter of factly.</p>
<p>‘There’s nothing in my pocket’ Benedict defended all too quickly. Elouise chuckled at her brother’s reaction, knowing he was hiding something from her and already loving the challenge.</p>
<p>‘What’s in your pocket? You may as well tell me now I’ll find out anyway’</p>
<p>‘It is of no concern of yours’ Benedict strained, taking a puff of his cigar.</p>
<p>‘If it is bothering you brother then of course it is of my concern. You have been moping and withdrawn all week and every time someone enters the room you jump, so what is it?’ Elouise’s stare was burning holes in the side of his head – already knowing she would persist until satisfaction anyway Benedict reached into his top pocket, pulling out the soft silk fabric and passing it over to her, sighing in defeat of his search.</p>
<p>‘It’s a handkerchief’ Elouise stated, rather disappointedly.</p>
<p>‘Yes’ Benedict smirked at her disappointment, waiting for her deductions to begin.</p>
<p>‘A Lady’s handkerchief’</p>
<p>‘Again correct.’ The smirk on Benedict’s face turning into a full grin as Elouise stood from her swing and paced with her evidence.</p>
<p>‘Then why is it of importance to you?’ You questioned warily.</p>
<p>‘It is Lady Y/N Portland’s handkerchief’ Benedict said, holding his hand out for the return of the item ‘She is the Duchess of Pembrokeshire’ he dejectedly gave the information with a sigh. Holding the handkerchief in his hands he felt to soft silken fabric and remembered how you had felt in his arms; all to briefly but he couldn’t forget you.</p>
<p>At least he knew your name now. He had had the forethought to ask Sir Henry that evening before he left. If anyone were to know it would be him, he had seen the two of you that evening as was sure you had to be a personal friend of his for him to give you a full tour of his artist’s studio.</p>
<p>‘And you met this Lady Portland where exactly?’ Elouise’s question broke him from his daze.</p>
<p>‘None of your business.’ Benedict stood to meet her gaze ‘I am going to bed’ he stormed off in the direction of the house, leaving Eloise both stunned and titillated at this new information her brother had granted her.</p>
<p>Benedict hadn’t seen Lady Y/N at Granville’s parties since they met, despite his searching. He remembered every detail of her; from the softness of her skin on his lips to gentle smile that pulled at her lips. Every detail was stored in his mind and provided constant distraction as he sat in front of his easel, yet again trying to focus on the scene in front of him: but his charcoal just didn’t know where to go, every move he made was wrong and it was drawing Sir Henry’s attention. Pulling up a chair, Granville sat next to him.</p>
<p>‘You are distracted friend.’</p>
<p>‘It is the light, I cannot get a grasp of the shadow’ Benedict huffed, setting down his charcoal. Sir Henry smiled and stood, setting a hand on his shoulder.</p>
<p>‘Perhaps the shadow you fail to grasp is not on your canvas’ he whispered into Benedict’s ear before leaving him to his struggle. Benedict furrowed his brow and tried to concentrate on his art. Eventually he managed to lose himself in the blending and shading of charcoal on canvas.</p>
<p>You steeled yourself as you entered Sir Granville’s home again. Cautiously skirting around the other guests, your eyes swept over the faces of the gentlemen there, longing to see one face in particular again. After that first night you had been terrified of your feelings – one half of you wanted so desperately to see Benedict again, to talk to him and be as close as you had been that night; and the other half absolutely forbade you from ever setting foot in Granville’s London home again for fear of your reputation. But your feelings couldn’t be denied and after Granville told you of Benedict’s enquiry of you, you knew you had to see him at least once more.</p>
<p>‘Your hands have improved greatly’ the soft caress of lips to the shell of his ear made Benedict inhale sharply, turning his head only a little to see you looking over his shoulder at his canvas. Were it not for his shock at seeing you again, after having given up any hope that you would return, he would have leapt to his feet to kiss the back of your hand. However, your proximity and the gentle touch on his shoulder forced him to stay seated.</p>
<p>‘I have returned every week to practice. I had hoped you would continue your critique of my work.’ Benedict whispered lowly so that only you could hear. He tried to return his concentration to the page in front of him, but the feel of your un gloved hand softly toying with a curl behind his ear and your scent surrounding him almost made him lose consciousness. At her lack of response Benedict continued. ‘I must see you tonight. Stay’ he muttered, not looking up from his work but reaching up and placing his hand over hers.</p>
<p>Benedict search inside every open doorway, eventually finding her in the place she had left him last. Settled in the darkest corner of the room, lit only by the glow of the fireplace from the far corner. They spoke for hours; Benedict having so many questions, why hasn’t she returned since that night? Why did she leave so hastily? He waited patiently as Y/N explained her situation: her struggle to stay in her late husband’s home, the lack of any heir to be found to replace him, as well as her struggle to maintain order over her staff and land without a man at the helm. Benedict waited patiently for her to finish, his eagerness to see her again put to one side in order to console her sadness.</p>
<p>‘But that has been rectified now. My brother has seen to it that I am able to stay and that my home will always be my home.’ She said matter of factly, clearing her throat.</p>
<p>‘So you are Lady of your land once more.’ Benedict smiled, trying to lighten her mood and the conversation.</p>
<p>‘Yes. And I have something to ask of you.’</p>
<p>‘Anything’ Benedict breathed.</p>
<p>‘I want you to paint me.’</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. An Artist's Touch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The moment you've all been waiting for ... SMUT!!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Benedict Bridgerton arrived at Pembroke House, he was greeted by a surly footman who showed him to Lady Portland’s drawing room and departed with an abruptly shut door. Benedict took in his surroundings, the ornate baroque ceilings cascading down the walls over golden archways and pillars. The rich colour of the room was ignited by the afternoon sun and candlelight dotted around the room. As Benedict finished setting up his easel and paints, he almost failed to hear the opening of a small door.</p>
<p>Y/N emerged from a highly decorated, but almost secret, door in one corner of the room. Benedict stood to greet her and took in her appearance. In place of the dress of a Lady she appeared to only be wearing a deep silk velvet dressing gown. As she reached her chaise lounge the collar of her gown fell over her shoulders, leaving them bare, and only being held up by her hands at her breast.</p>
<p>Benedict’s mouth hung open, already tense at the scene before him; as Lady Y/N Portland dropped the robe to the floor leaving her completely bare save for a delicate diamond and pearl necklace laying across her collarbones. He watched as she sunk down onto the cushions, laying gracefully on her side as she made eye contact with him.</p>
<p>‘Is this ok?’ she asked. Benedict gulped and stumbled on his words as his tongue tried to gain its muscle back.</p>
<p>‘Yes.’ He coughed. ‘Yes, that’s fine.’ Trying to regain some form of control over his own mind, Benedict began sketching out his initial plan onto paper. Noting every dip and curve in her body, the way the warm sunlight graced her skin and how her eyes pierced into his own. He would make sure he captured that.</p>
<p>He sketched for hours; first onto scraps of paper from his sketchbook, and then onto the canvas itself. You sat as the perfect model, he thought; moving barely an inch other than to lift a glass to your lips.</p>
<p>She watched as Benedict sketched; his brow furrowed as it had been in the artist’s studio, concentration etched on his face; noting how handsome he was – not for the first time, but there was something about the way his passion came through on his face. When he loosened his cravat and rolled the sleeves of his shirt to begin painting, she saw how strong his neck and arms looked. The sight of him in such a casual yet concentrated manner sent a warmth through her, yet she sensed that her current attire may have had some effect on him as well.</p>
<p>As the daylight dimmed Benedict stood to re-arrange the lighting. As he came closer, she looked up at him, the evening sun making him a silhouette save for his soft curls which were highlighted, making him look like an angel.</p>
<p>He stooped to look at her more closely, resting his hand behind her head as he re-arranged one of the curls that had fallen out of place.</p>
<p>‘Perfect’ he whispered as he brushed the back of his fingers down the side of her face. She could feel heat radiating from him as he leaned over, his eyes were so clear blue as they examined her, she felt like she could get lost in them. Her hand came up to stop his from moving from her face, wanting him to stay there forever. His thumb ghosted over her bottom lip, his eyes following the movement and the soft plumpness of them before he looked back at her.</p>
<p>They both stayed that way, feeling the air between them grow thin as they both knew what was about to happen. Her hand found his chest to steady herself as Benedict leaned in and closed the gap between them. His kiss was so soft as he breathed into it, the sound reminding her to breath in itself. They broke apart only for a second before he dove back in, warm tongue parting her lips as the hand on his chest tightened around the white cotton fabric, pulling him closer to her. Benedict leaned in further, kneeling over her as he took her head in his hand to deepen the kiss, feeling her soft curls through his fingers. Her hand slipped inside his opened shirt, feeling his strong warm chest and smattering of chest hair as it trailed up to his neck.</p>
<p>Pulling apart to catch their breath Benedict leaned back with an apologetic look in his eye. Before he had the chance to say anything she sat up and pulled him into another kiss, hands raking through his hair as she heard him catch his breath again before putting his arms around her and bringing her closer to him.  He kissed his way from her lips to below her ear, sucking gentle marks into the tender skin as he made his way down to her diamond clad clavicle.</p>
<p>‘Take if off’ She gasped, as Benedict pulled her bare thigh over his hip. He trailed his hands up both sides of her, sending shivers up her back and making her nipples harden against his chest, reaching around her neck to unclasp the delicate jewellery.</p>
<p>‘Did your husband give this to you?’ he questioned, as he peppered kisses over the newly bared skin.</p>
<p>‘A wedding gift’ She moaned out as his hands came to cup her breasts, thumbing over her nipples. Benedict continued his assault on her breasts, laving a hot wet trail down her body as he made his way between her thighs. Kneeling on the floor before her he cradled her thighs in his large warm hands, pressing gentle, teasing kisses into the soft plump flesh there.</p>
<p>As she basked in the tender, erotic sensation of his lips she opened her eyes just a little to peer own at her lover; all roughed hair and pink cheeks, his mouth hanging open as her hand in his hair guided him to her centre. Taking his orders, Benedict kept his eyes on hers as he delved in, lapping her up with the passion of a starved man. His eyes only fluttered closed when he felt her thighs contract around his head, making him double his efforts in getting them to tremble around him.</p>
<p>Y/N went tense, heat pulsing over her as Benedict’s lips suctioned to her clit, tongue laving over her over and over as she came suddenly with a scream. Benedict licked his lips as he pulled back to see her laid out before him.</p>
<p>‘I feel very underdressed’ she sighed as she took his dishevelled appearance in. His hair was a complete mess; where before his cheeks were pinked, they were now flushed red, and his shirt a rugged mess, half on and half off of his body.</p>
<p>‘You look perfect.’ he growled ‘I want to paint you, just…’ he said, kissing up her body ‘like... this.’ As he reached her again Y/N pulled out his loose shirt from his tight trousers and Benedict began unbuttoning them. His frantic movements were halted by Y/N pulling his shirt over his head. When he emerged, breathless from beneath the billowing fabric, he dived down to grace her neck with hot biting kisses as her hands raked through his hair and down his back; pushing his trousers down as far as they would go before she hooked her legs over is hips once more.</p>
<p>Feeling her hot wet centre grazing against him, Benedict left his mark on her lower neck as he slid himself gracefully inside of her. They gasped into each other’s mouths at the feeling. The pent-up tension of months of wanting left them panting already. Y/N shivered at the stretch of his girth, pulling him in for a kiss as he began to move.</p>
<p>Benedict steadied himself on the arm of the chaise lounge as he thrust into her slowly and purposefully, spreading his legs as far as he could with his trousers around his boots, as he watched open mouthed at her ecstasy. Y/N’s nailed raked down his back as his thrusts became firmer and Benedict moaned at the mixture of pain and pleasure he felt at her touch. Reaching for her thighs to pull her closer he cradled her head in his steady arm and kissed her deeply. Their bodies were so close they were almost one. Y/N bit his lip as his head hit differently inside her, moaning wantonly into his mouth. Feeling her hardened nipples brush against his chest, Benedict reached down to caress them, fondling her soft breast in his large palm as she tightened around him.</p>
<p>‘Benedict’ She moaned at his stimulation. All he could do was grunt in appreciation of her moans, lost in her - as every one of his senses were filled with her. He was so close to release, desperate even, to make her feel just a fragment of what he felt.</p>
<p>‘My Love’ the words slipped from his lips - but he meant every word, as he panted into her skin, the tender flesh of her cheek brushing past him as she turned to look into his eyes. ‘I love you’ he panted, not being able to hold it in any longer.</p>
<p>‘Benedict’ She repeated, this time out of love, not lust. Her eye’s looked almost sad as she took in the reality of his words. ‘I love you too.’ No words could have made Benedict happier than those as he captured her perfect lips in a kiss.</p>
<p>Pulling her lower half up to meet his, Benedict rolled his hips up into hers, determined now to get her over the edge before he would let himself go. The angle of his drive made Y/N’s toes curl and her hand’s clench, raking over his shoulders and down his chest, forcing a whine from deep in his throat.  He sped up his thrusts, uncontrollable jolts from his hips sent Y/N into euphoria.</p>
<p>Benedict felt her core clench around his cock and couldn’t help but grip her thighs tightly as a blazing heat rolled over him and he came with a burst, buckling over her.</p>
<p>The reality of their situation only set in after a moment, when they had both caught their breaths. Their sticky bodies slowly eased apart as they settled themselves more comfortably on the sofa. Benedict’s shocked face outweighed Y/N’s as he spoke nothing but apologies for his final act. As concerned as she was Y/N comforted Benedict with a mild smile as she drew a tapestry throw over her naked body.</p>
<p>Right here was exactly where she wanted to stay forever. Benedict had carried her to her bed in the adjoining room, cradling her in his strong arms, having stripped off the remainder of his apparel - brushing a stray curl from her face as she looked up into his slate blue eyes.</p>
<p>‘Did you mean what you said?’ She whispered, fingers playing with his smattering of chest hair.</p>
<p>‘When?’ he questioned with a smirk, knowing exactly what she was referring to but wanting her to say it, just for him.</p>
<p>‘When you were balls deep inside of me’ Y/N deadpanned, looking at him as if to challenge her. Benedict couldn’t help but giggle at her words, his smile covering his entire face before composing himself.</p>
<p>‘I will love you forever…’ he paused ‘… If you’ll have me.’</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Hint of Gossip</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Y/N makes her first appearance in society since her mourning period finished.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’d never really liked Society. You’d always blamed it for your marriage to your husband, the late Duke of Pembrokeshire, but after your year of mourning and six months of sculking in the shadows of London Society you thought it best you re-emerge now lest gossip start. That, and Benedict had badgered you mercilessly about how boring evenings were without you there. So, you donned one of your favourite gowns, a simple deep plum silk with a fine cream lace, fixed your diadem and steeled yourself for, no doubt, the whole of the Ton’s glare.</p>
<p>You arrived at the Viscount and Viscountess Frankland’s ball purposefully as the first dance had already commenced as to not garner too much attention. Unfortunately, as you entered the ballroom you could hear the audible gasps of gossiping mama’s; whipping their heads around as you turned to look at them. Taking a turn around the room you diligently avoided the gazes of everyone you walked past, stopping at the food table to grab a glass of lemonade and inspect the canapes.</p>
<p>“Y/N! Darling!” you heard a smug, haughty voice bellow towards you. You turned abruptly to see Lady De Vere barging several poor ladies out of the way to reach you. “Lady Cynthia, how nice to see you again.” You gritted out, trying your best to mellow your displeasure. “Oh you poor thing, it was simply dreadful to hear that dear Percival had died.” She seemed to announce to the entire room making you rather suspect that if Baron’s wife had not been her destiny, a life on stage might have been a calling. You smiled and hummed in general agreement as she continued to gesticulate wildly, blithering on about god knows what. A crowd parted behind her and you looked over her shoulder to see a formation of Bridgerton’s gliding towards you; lead by Benedict with Violet coming up on his flank, looking ready to take the boisterous Baroness out.</p>
<p>“Your Grace.” Benedict crooned, bowing to kiss your hand with a smirk. The Baroness was quickly shuffled out of the way with a glare from Violet. The Bridgerton siblings greeted you as one, sharing matching smiles as they glanced sideways to see Benedict still smiling at you. “Delighted to make your acquaintance Your Grace, Benedict has spoken very highly of you.” Violet smiled “I understand you met at an art exhibition: Benedict has always loved to draw, I understand you commissioned him for a portrait not too long ago?” she continued, wrapping her arm in his so he could not escape.</p>
<p>“Mother.” Benedict scolded. Their interaction made you smile and you rather suspected that the Dowager Viscountess was playing matchmaker for her son. Little did she know that she needn’t bother: Ever since those wonderful two weeks Benedict had spent at Pembroke House you were sure that you would not let yourself be courted by any other, should anyone decide to. The conversation continued around you and whilst you were glad of the company your eye couldn’t help but drift to Benedict. His eyes were already on yours and he held your gaze coyly as you shared fleeting glances over your party. “Mother” Benedict interrupted suddenly “I wonder if I might steal Her Grace for a dance. If you wouldn’t mind Your Grace.” He bowed again, holding out his hand before leading you to the floor and taking you in his arms as the music started.</p>
<p>“You look lovely this evening.” He growled out lowly, just into the shell of your ear as he spun you through the crowd. The shiver that ran up your spine when his hot breath hit your ear made you arch yourself into him. His warmth surrounded you, feeling it though the arm of his jacket and gloved hand cradling your lower back.</p>
<p>“So do you.” you smiled at him, looking up at him to see his trademark smirk on his face. You danced smoothly together around the ballroom, discussing the accepted subjects for a ball; the weather… yesterday’s weather, before you started to notice eyes on you. “Lady Cowper is staring at us.”</p>
<p>“Let her.” His deep voice becoming more serious as he turned you so you weren’t facing her.</p>
<p>“and Mrs Featherington… they’re all talking about me aren’t they?” your grip on his arm tightened as you became more aware of yourself again. It was well known that your marriage was not a loving one. You were the daughter of a minor earl, who only inherited the title because of the death of his elder brother, with little dowry and scandalous parents, and your husband was almost three times your senior with no other family: it fed the ton for months. Now you were back and it looked like some of the mama’s still remembered you.</p>
<p>“They do not matter. Whatever they say they cannot touch you now.” His soothing tone settled within you, calming your mind a little as you saw their glances and whispers from behind their fans.</p>
<p>“They can still talk.” After that you settled into a comfortable silence for a while. You let yourself get lost in the music, and in Benedict’s arms.</p>
<p>“Thank you for coming this evening.” Benedict said suddenly. You looked up at him to see his kind eyes already staring down at you, smiling before straightening back up again. “I would not have put you through this but marrying you would be most difficult if you were still in mourning.” He finished.</p>
<p>“Ha. I think mourning is a bit of a strong word for … Marrying me?” you said shocked, your head turned like a whip to see him smirking into the distance.</p>
<p>“If you’ll have me?” He whispered, spinning you in time with the music. The world seemed to blur around you as you just looked at Benedict. If you weren’t in the middle of a ballroom floor you were sure you’d jump into his arms that instant. Your whole heart felt so full at his smile: It had been so long since your heart had felt anything you were almost certain that it wasn’t beating anymore – but Benedict had brought you back to life in more ways than one.</p>
<p>As the music came to an end, Benedict had his answer and bid your leave with a kiss to your hand as he departed to inform Anthony of your news. You took this time to seek out a glass of lemonade at the buffet table. You were just inspecting the selection of hors d’ouvres when you saw Lady Cowper approaching from your side vision, Cow being the operative word.</p>
<p>“Lady Portland!” her shrill tone turned your blood ice cold and you plastered on a false smile once more before turning to face her. “or is it still Your Grace? I do apologise but your situation is an odd one” she laughed. Her insults were always obvious but just underlined enough for her to feign ignorance. Your brain whirred, trying to come up with some smart reply to send her one her way when you noted Lady Danbury approaching.</p>
<p>“Your Grace.” She curtsied minimally, holding her cane. You nodded a smile in her direction as she turned her sharp eyes to Lady Cowper.</p>
<p>“Lady Danbury.” She said rather shocked, knowing she’d been busted. “How lovely to see you, and what an exquisite gown you are wearing.” Trying to change the subject.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Lady Cowper, and may I suggest always showing deference to the superior rather than presuming an equal, in polite society. It is always wise to remember one’s place.” Lady Danbury never missed a beat with her remarks and you struggled to stifle a giggle under the glare of Lady Cowper.</p>
<p>“Of course, Lady Danbury, I was merely asking. If you’ll excuse me.” She curtsied politely before drifting off to fuss over her daughter. Lady Danbury turned back to face you.</p>
<p>“How are you my dear. I see the second Mr Bridgerton is easing your passage back into society.” She smirked, looking over to see Anthony and Colin clapping their brother on the back.</p>
<p>“I am very well Lady Danbury; Mr Bridgerton is a fine dancer.” Your voice petered off as you followed her gaze, a broad smile coming to your face as you watched him smile.</p>
<p>“He painted your portrait did he not?” Danbury continued “Two whole weeks at Pembroke House?” her tone caught your attention and you turned to look back at her, stumbling over a response.</p>
<p>“Oh, um … yes.” You blushed. Just as you were trying to make her words sound less sordid Benedict returned to your side, greeting her with a bow as he placed a subtle hand on your lower back to calm you; thumb rubbing gently.</p>
<p>“Ah. Mr Bridgerton, I was just saying to her grace how chivalrous it is that you’ve taken it upon yourself to see her back into society.” Lady Danbury smiled, her knowing look clueing Benedict in to her inference. His brow raised as he nodded between the two of you and you heard his breath hitch subtly at her words. If Lady Danbury were to guess anything, she could quite easily cause a lot of trouble. A fact which, you were sure, she knew. She took in the silence from the both of you, enjoying the mixture of shock and discomfort on your faces as she eyed you like she was picking her next meal. After a moment or two of enjoying your distress she took a step closer, making sure only you and Benedict could hear her. “Just make sure, that when you send the invites, I am on your list, I do love a wedding.” And with those quiet words, she bid you good evening and turned to leave you both, sweating but relieved.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Chime of Bells</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I smell a wedding ... and a wedding night</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The warm summer breeze hit you as you stepped out of the church, the clear bright sky making the arches of blush roses stand out against the stark blue. You wobbled slightly as you stepped on the old cobbles of the church steps and you gripped tighter to the arm around yours, looking up to see Benedict smiling down at you. His gloved hand covered yours as you walked together to the awaiting carriage. The small ceremony had been held away from London, in the little church of the village nearest your new home. Benedict had never favoured London society and, London society, had never really favoured you. To that end Benedict had purchased a reasonably sized house on the Kent coast, only a short distance from Aubrey Hall but far enough that the ton would not easily come calling.</p>
<p>Benedict proffered a hand to help you into the carriage. “Mrs Bridgerton” he beckoned to you with a lopsided grin which you mirrored. Following after you, into the carriage, Benedict slid in beside you and rested his arm around your shoulder as the carriage began to move – the sound of church bells and his siblings cheering your departure ringing behind you. As the carriage trundled down the country lane, on its way to Aubrey Hall Benedict turned to you. “Are you happy to be Mrs Bridgerton?” he asked suddenly. You looked over, shocked.</p>
<p><em>Of Course, you were happy to be a Mrs Bridgerton, to be his wife</em>. Surely, he knew how much you cared for him, how much you loved him. Your engagement hadn’t been particularly long but you both knew you knew each other long before you were seen together for the first time. “No. I’m ecstatic!” you smiled at his worried brow, cupping his cheek as you pulled him in to a kiss. He pulled back a little after returning the kiss. Only enough to see your glossy eyes staring back at him – his hand coming to cover yours that was placed on his cheek.</p>
<p>“But you were a Duchess.” He whispered just to you, leaning in closer to touch your foreheads together. “Now you’re just Mrs Bridgerton.” You laughed. His tone suggested that was a bad thing; and you knew, Benedict of all people cared as much for titles as he did for what ribbons his mother had chosen for Hyacinths bridesmaids dress.</p>
<p>“You should know by now that I do not care for titles. And being Mrs Bridgerton, is most definitely better than any title.” Your hand stroked his face, realisation blooming on it of how stupid he was being. Neither of you cared for a title and he knew that; but you were always expected to marry up in society and Benedict knew that by marrying him, you were marrying down. His arm wrapped behind you came to pull you in closer, so you were almost in his lap. His hand left yours and pulled your legs over his, so now you were. Your arms wrapped themselves over his broad shoulders and pulled him back to you, determined to show him <em>just</em> how happy you were.</p>
<p>Though the ceremony was small, which you had both wanted, Benedict had argued (unsuccessfully) for the size of the reception. It was a grand affair, held at Aubrey Hall, and true to his mother’s ‘suggestions’ the ballroom was crammed full of the crème de la crème of the ton. Although a lot of the ton were in attendance, thanks to Benedict’s last-minute interference with the guest list you made sure to only invite people you actually wanted there, including a lot of your artistic friend’s, making a surprisingly good impression on even some of the more reserved members of Society.</p>
<p>“Mrs Bridgerton.” A deep voice spoke from behind you. You turned to see Sir Henry Granville smiling at you over his glass. He bowed to you before joining you watch your guests.</p>
<p>“Sir Granville.” You smiled as you curtsied to him, “I do hope you are enjoying the evening?”</p>
<p>“Immensely darling.” He sighed “I do hope that now you are a married lady that will not mean that you, or your gorgeous new husband, will stay too long away from town.” Your eyes flit over to your <em>gorgeous husband</em>. Benedict stood by the wall of large arched windows, laughing with Colin at something Penelope Featherington had said. Oh the poor girl, her mother had dressed her again: a shimmering orange gown that matched her hair, with a delicate green lace to cut the two in half … she looked like a carrot. Your eyes drew back to Benedict; you could see from the other side of the room the laughter lines by his eyes, and the slight crookedness of his teeth that seemed to make him all the more cute. You only managed to sigh in response as you were lost in the scene before you, so content with your life for the first time in forever. Granville took your wispy sighs as confirmation he would not see either of you at his soirees for some months and stifled a giggle into his glass as he took a sip.</p>
<p>The party carried on until well into the evening, dancing and merriment stretched through several rooms of Aubrey Hall, and the gardens, where one lady of the ton was taught to juggle by several circus performers who had arrived earlier in the evening. By one in the morning you and Benedict were waving the last of your guests off from the front steps. Slumped against one another with silly grins on both of your faces, it was safe to say that the both of you were a little tired and a little tipsy. Violet Bridgerton had retired to bed just after midnight, shooing her youngest two back up the stairs with her from where they had been watching the party. Daphne and Simon had departed to their room shortly after as well, followed by Francesca who had to be carried to bed by Colin after falling asleep in a chair in the library. You and Benedict turned back to go inside. The footmen and maids had already started the clear up of the ballroom and gardens, picking up dropped napkins and sweeping away smashed glass. You bid Anthony and Kate goodnight, thanking them for hosting the evening; Colin followed after, cravat loose and waistcoat already unbuttoned. You didn’t even see Eloise go to bed, but you were told by Colin she had snuck away when one unfortunate young lord had made a most ungentlemanly remark and received a heeled slipper to the shin.</p>
<p>You and Benedict giggled at Colin’s retelling of the event, watching in contented silence as the last of the Bridgerton’s ascended the stairs. Well almost the last of the Bridgertons. You turned in Benedict’s arms to face him, smiling lazily at each other as his face came to rest in the curve of your neck. The light feeling that had been growing in your stomach bloomed in your chest as he began leaving soft, butterfly kisses along a column of soft skin there, just where you liked it. Your fingers clung onto his shoulders as your knees weakened. His hands roamed your back, the wide expanse of them and the heat they exuded seeped through your gown and sent goosebumps rippling over you.</p>
<p>By the time you were outside your room Benedict had you up against the wall, kissing you passionately as he searches blindly for the knob to open it. When he finally got you inside your honeymoon suite, he didn’t put you down, pressing you against the closed door as his hands slid up your thighs and under the layers and layers of chiffon and silk. Hastily ridding you of your silk stockings, the feel of his rough, artists, hands on your thighs made them quake around him, pulling a smirk from his mouth as he bit at your lower lip. Your hands found their way to his hair; the soft thick curls running through your fingertips felt divine and mad you cling to him further as he moved you over to the bed, pressing you back against the bed post so he could lower you to the floor.</p>
<p>His hands not leaving your body he pulled your long gown up your body as he stood to his full height. Pulling at the small bow at the back of your neck, he lifted the dress clean off of you – leaving you leaning against the dark oak bedpost, in your thin chemise. <br/>Benedict stared in awe at the practically see through garment: the pale fabric skimming down your body like warm milk. Your name echoed deeply from his chest as he eyed you hungrily; his eyes, usually so soft and tender, now looked dark and possessing. He stood for a moment, mind racing with the view before him. He had made love to you before, but now you were his wife. His. Wife. Forever. And the way you looked up at him through your lashes, not coy but knowing. You knew what you did to him, what you were doing to him. He could feel the length in his breeches growing with every movement of his eyes over your body. Breathing steadily through his nose to calm his heartbeat he tried to ignore the growing throbbing at the restraining fabric.</p>
<p>“You’re wearing too many clothes Mr Bridgerton” your silky words pulling him out of his daze as he looked to your face once more, stepping closer to encompass you.</p>
<p>“As my wife.” He paused “Mrs Bridgerton. I believe it is your responsibility to solve that.” He finished, his deep smooth voice mere inches from your ear. You slowly pushed his jacket from his shoulders, watching with a smouldering gaze as he assisted by pulling his cravat from his collar. Your eyes burnt into one another as neither broke eye contact, smiling, even as he toed off his boots. He made short work of his waistcoat, shucking it off as you began to unbutton his loose shirt, feeling his warm skin through the billowing linen. One he was free of it his hands wrapped back around your waist, not wasting a second in pulling you back into a steaming kiss, his tongue tracing your soft bottom lip, begging for entrance as his hands delicately try and pull the pins keeping your hair in place.</p>
<p>You spoke his name into the air like a prayer when you felt his heat seep into your bones, trailing your hands down his strong chest to pull his shirt free from his trousers, fingertips gently brushing over his stiff cock – trapped in confinement as you did so.</p>
<p>“Oh my love” he moaned as your hands brushed against his length. “Y/N, darling” he murmured, kisses departing from your lips to trail down your neck once more, his breeches falling no sooner than the buttons popped. As he bent down to kick them away, he grasped your legs again, circling them around his hips as he turned to kneel on the bed, walking you up onto it. His lips remained on yours, worshipping every piece of skin he could lay them on before lowering you back, softly so your head rested gently on the pillows beneath you.</p>
<p>As you landed on your back you smiled giddily up at him. The fleeting image of your last wedding night flashing before your eyes before you blinked and Benedict reappeared. Happiness flooded you as you thought of the comparison. Benedict’s soft kisses drew you out of your haze and you found yourself stroking his cheek as you had done in the carriage earlier. The soft murmur of his name drew his eyes back up to yours</p>
<p>“Yes, darling” the way his deep voice said those words, you don’t think you’d ever be used to that.</p>
<p>“I love you” you pushed at his chin to kiss him, savouring the way he felt above you, on top of you, how he tasted. You never want this moment to end and you couldn’t believe he was yours, <em>Your Benedict.</em> Smiling int your kiss, he pulled back when he felt wet on his cheek, realising you were crying into the kiss.</p>
<p>“Y/n, what is the matter?” he asked, worried.</p>
<p>“I’m just so happy my dear” you smiled as you cried some more; brushing a soft curl from his eyes that had flopped over into view. A comforting hand came to circle your waist once more, pulling you ever closer to his as his worship of your skin continued.</p>
<p>“Y/N. I love you so much.” His muffled words pressed into your neck in the form of kisses. “I will love you until the day I die and continue loving you long after.” He whispered “for as long as you’ll have me.” He smiled, tears in his eyes too.</p>
<p>“Make love to me?” you whisper into the space between you.</p>
<p>“Always” he smiled, kissing you once more on your lips, and continuing to press meaningful kisses down your clavicle and between your breasts, cupping them and inhaling your sweet scent as it surrounded him. As he descended lower on your body, his hands roamed and rumpled the soft silk of your delicate chemise, pushing it up your legs in a silent plea. You sat up to pull the chemise over your head, falling back again as Benedict’s soft lips graced your thighs, making you jump when he used his teeth to gently scrape at the soft flesh. You loved when he settled between your thighs, the way his tongue slide over your centre, the way it gently parted your lips and pressed you open against his face made you feel so alive. His eagerness to please you and draw any sound he could from between your lips made you shake with lust. As he sucked at you bud his eyes looked up at you through long dark lashes – the piercing blue of his eyes just visible above your thatch of hair. Your hand came down to card through his hair, pulling at it, not knowing whether you wanted him to stop and fuck you properly, or have him keep going forever.</p>
<p>“Every time I taste you, you get more and more exquisite” he growled, crawling back over you to steal a kiss from your bitten red lips, making you taste yourself from his glossy tongue.</p>
<p>“Benedict, get this off” you pleaded into his mouth, pulling as his open shirt.  Complying with your wishes he tugged it over his head, revealing himself in all his glory. <em>You’d never get tired of that sigh</em>t.</p>
<p>“Now” he growled possessively “Where was I?”</p>
<p>“Taking your wife for the very first time?” you laugh softly at the insinuation. He lowered himself to cover you once more, his hand pulling your leg up over his thigh.</p>
<p>“Ah yes” he crooned smoothly “The very first time” his words punctuated by is head pushing into you. Since your re-entrance into society, many eyes had been beadily spying on you wherever you went, making rendezvous’ with Benedict all the more difficult - and when news of your announcement spread, any meeting outside of customary events had completely ceased. The stretch of his girth as he moved deeper into you sent a chill up your spine. You had missed the way he made love to you, the way he felt inside of you, and the way you could make him feel. Ever since that fortnight at Pembroke House, you had made it your life’s mission to give Benedict every ounce of pleasure you could.</p>
<p>As his thrust’s became rhythmic your moans began to echo into the darkened room. You began to roll your hips up to meet his, revelling the fullness and ecstatic ache of his cock inside you. His slow steady thrusts were scratching an itch but not fulfilling your need for him. You needed it faster; harder; you wanted to feel him in the morning and remember it whenever you found yourself in boring company. Benedict was getting lost in his rhythm, you could tell. His head was bent forward between you as he watched where he disappeared inside of you. His deep moans and hot heavy breaths hit your chest.</p>
<p>You raked your nails up his back, drawing his attention to your face as his head tipped back at the sensation. You took the opportunity to roll him over, pressing a hand to his chest to lay him down as you straddled his hips. Benedict’s hands came to rest on your hips as you pushed yourself back over down his thick silken cock, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh bound to leave their mark in either colour or feel.  As you began to roll your hips you watched with delight as his head rolled further back into the pillows, the long column of his neck exposed fully. The sight of him, you were sure, could soothe the blind and, if only you were an artist, you would be sure to capture this very image.</p>
<p>“Oh Fuck” Benedict moaned after a particularly forceful roll of your hips. He began thrusting as ell as he could under you; opening his eyes to see you bracing one hand behind you on his shin, rolling your nipple in the other. The debauched scene before him made him double his efforts, grasping your hips and fucking up into you from below – allowing his thumb to stray down to your bud.</p>
<p>“Benedict” you prayed once more, arms giving out as you lay across him, only managing to hold yourself up with your elbows by his head. The change in angle allowed him to take more control from under you, biting into your shoulder as he drove you to orgasm, determined to feel your velvet hot core tighten around him. His calloused hands slid over you, brushing the soft peaks of your nipples as they cupped your breasts. He pulled one into his mouth as the other hand pressed you down onto his length. “Please”</p>
<p>“Yes “he breathed, feeling you pulse around him. “You’re so close my love. Come on, do it. I want to feel you over me.” His demand tipped you over the edge. The deep rumble of his words vibrating through you as an electric storm coursed through your veins. Benedict followed after you with a groan muffled into you neck. His cock pulsing seed into you until he was completely spent.  </p>
<p>Rolling over next to him you collapsed back onto the cool sheets – turning your head to see him already looking at you, both sharing lazy grins as you caught your breath together. Benedict moved his hand just an inch to encapsulate yours, slowly dragging it up to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of your fingers.</p>
<p>“That was amazing.” You sighed, just about managing to speak and certainly not having the energy to move. Benedict’s hand flopped back down onto the bed, still holding yours.</p>
<p>“Yes it was” he whispered, pulling a thin sheet over the both of you as you settled into the stillness of the night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p># = Your First Initial</p><p>This is an ongoing series that I started on Tumblr ( @mrsbbridgerton )<br/>It's also the first fic I've ever uploaded onto AO3 so I may move some things around as I work out how this works.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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